A Pumpkin Spice Blog Post.

Ah, pumpkin spice, the modern day, loved-hated harbinger of an encroaching autumn. As summer draws to a close, leaving us to weep and cling to the last light of shortening days, the first sighting of this hallmark causes much stirring. And many memes.

But you can’t grasp light because it’s ephemeral, unlike this non-biodegradable cup.

Oh, pumpkin spice, why do people hate you so much? There must be some underlying cause, deeper than the need to roll our eyes at the “basic white girl.”

“Turn, Turn, Turn”

I think there’s a reason why retirees move south. I mean, other than the obvious. Yes, the risk of slipping on ice and snapping their brittle bones decreases greatly, but also when it’s sunny and 75 degrees every day of the year, they don’t feel the passage of time.

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep*

*I know you’re not supposed to quote song lyrics in your books and papers or the music industry reps will sue your butt broke. But the Turn, Turn, Turn lyrics are Ecclesiastes 3:1-15, and me quoting the Bible brings up moral and ethical issues that are way, way far outside the domain of entertainment lawyers.

My point is, if you don’t perceive seasons changing, you can achieve immortality.

More or less.

Embrace Change?

And if we’re going down this wobbly path of searching your soul over Starbucks, what does it mean if you’re one in the slice of the pie chart who loves pumpkin spice?

I laugh in the face of artificial colors and flavors.

Perhaps you just like the taste of it. Some people like artificial cherry flavor, which I think is disgusting. (Thanks, Robitussin.)

Maybe you like the change of seasons, the shortening of days, the smell of pie, spices, cider, and dry leaves in the air. Apple picking. Trick-or-treating. Candy corn. Little kids in their costumes. Thanksgiving. Pie and family gatherings. Football games.

No, these aren’t actors! Why do you ask?

Perhaps, even, that famous poem, Spring and Fall, comes to mind, in a sweetly bittersweet tang of gratitude for life?

MÁRGARÉT, áre you gríeving

Over Goldengrove unleaving?

So, it’s a kids’ poem, right?

Maybe this simple season opener in a cup is as welcome as the robin in spring or the opening of the neighborhood pool in summer. Kids splashing in sprinklers. The chime of the ice cream truck.

Or…

Or not.

For us authors and booksellers, fall also means the approach of the gift-giving season, specifically book gifts. My schedule is filling up with events. Maybe I’ll see you around!